Marked By You
by Yoru no Kuronue
Summary: Malik kidnaps a rich boy for ransom. He marks him, then lets him go. 5 years later, he finds him again, but this time their relationship is given time to grow...
1. Default Chapter

**Marked By You**

Don't own anything.

Chapter 1

It had been months since Malik had had a mission. Now, his new mission was to kidnap some rich teenager for ransom. Lovely. He was an assassin for God's sake, not a babysitter! He growled to himself as he came upon the wall around the estate he was looking for. He climbed the wall into the garden of the kid's house, keeping his eyes peeled. No guards, nobody. Landing softly in the garden, he slid into an alleyway between two houses. He heard someone coming. Looking out, he saw a boy walking right past where he was standing. The description was right: small, platinum hair, lavender eyes, tan. Pretty, too; actually, that wasn't in the description, just Malik's opinion. He pulled a strip of cloth out and used it to cover the boy's mouth, dragging him backward into the pitch black alley. Pressing the struggling boy against his body, he removed the cloth, slipping his hand over the boy's mouth.

"Make a sound or try to run, and I'll kill you faster than you can say 'help.' Now, let's see if you're the one I'm looking for..." He felt the boy's neck until he found a thin chain. Taking it out of his victim's shirt, he saw the emblem of the house of Ishtar. He smirked. Perfect.

"Hands behind you, boy, now," he said softly. Instead, the boy tried to pull away. Malik pulled out a knife and placed it at the boy's throat, watching his eyes contract in fear.

"Now," he growled menacingly. The boy complied, and using one hand, Malik deftly secured the boy's wrists with the strip of cloth. Then he dragged him away, leaving only a note where they had stood.

Malik and his friends were celebrating as they always did when someone's mission went all right. Which was every night, usually. Which meant a lot of drinking. Malik smirked at the captive huddled in a corner. So lovely and desirable. The strip of cloth around the boy's wrists had been replaced with rope, and he curled up against the wall, clearly terrified. Malik's friend Bakura smiled, which was more like a sneer.

"Marik, huh. Looks a little like you, Malik. Pretty, ain't he?" The prisoner tried to move as Bakura approached, but he was trapped. Bakura knelt in front of him. Marik's eyes widened. Bakura ran a finger down the boy's face softly. Marik closed his eyes, shuddering, trying to ignore the hand that was now running over his neck. Suddenly a high-pitched voice came out of the group.

"'Kura, what about me?" Bakura smirked and left Marik to go over to a young albino boy serving the group. He grabbed him roughly and kissed him.

"Whaddaya mean, what about you? I was just playing with him. You're mine." The servant smiled happily. Then he broke away and ran to the stairs.

"Come catch me, 'Kura!" He ran up the stairs, with Bakura chasing him, laughing maniacally. The rest of the group groaned.

"There goes tonight's sleep. Ryou's a screamer." Malik looked out the window and realized how late it was.

"Time for bed, everyone. Someone tie the kid's feet." The boy struggled uselessly as the order was carried out. Malik smiled down at the frightened boy.

"Can't have you running away now, can we?" The assassins left the room to go to bed. Malik couldn't sleep. His mind kept drifting to the boy, to those light lavender eyes looking at him in terror. Finally he got up and went downstairs. Marik was asleep, bound as he was. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks. Malik squatted down, and ran his thumb over them, wiping them away. The boy stirred, but nothing more. Malik sighed. He could never hurt this boy. Even if his father refused to pay up, Malik would just let him go anyway, more than likely. Marik stirred again, and Malik quickly left the room.

The next morning, Malik had the boy blindfolded and kneeling in front of him, feet untied. Someone pushed Marik's head down. Malik moved the hair away from his neck, feeling him tremble. Malik dipped a small knife in a dish of purple liquid.

"Now, boy, I'm just going to mark you, in case I need to find you again for...financial reasons." The others guffawed. Malik began carving a symbol into Marik's neck. The young captive jerked at the sudden pain. Malik smirked.

"If you move, it'll just hurt more." He put the finishing line on the _Ka_ symbol and stood, watching it turn purple.

"Let's go." He took Marik and got on his horse.

"Don't make a sound, or I will kill you." Marik nodded, and the assassin's rode off. They came to an alley and saw a man standing there with a bag. Malik and the others got off their horses. Malik held a dagger to Marik's throat.

"Give me my son back." Malik pressed the flat of his dagger against the side of the boy's face. Marik shuddered as Malik ran his tongue slowly up his captive's ear.

"Why should I? He's so...delectible. But for as much money as I've asked for, I'll give him back. Throw the money to my friend here and I'll let your son go." The exchange was swift. Before the man could even remove his son's blindfold, Malik and the others had disappeared.

Malik had felt a pang of regret as he let go of the boy. He wondered if he'd ever see him again...if those deep pools of lavender would ever look at him in something other than fear...


	2. Again

Don't own anything except Marik's new hairdo.

Chapter 2

5 years later...

Malik Ishtaal walked along the street toward the dojo, his dark platinum hair blowing in the breeze. It had been almost three years since he'd been to Edo. He remembered everything; the streets, the people, and one in particular. No, Malik, don't start that again. Ever since the abduction and release, that boy had stayed on his mind. He had been so beautiful, young and free. Malik had only been 18, but he knew he'd fallen head over heels at the first look. He shook his head. No. Even if he saw the boy again, Marik would never trust him, and certainly never love him. He hoped the dojo was still there; he needed to practice. It came into sight a second later. Walking in, he passed several rooms that people were practicing in. A flash of steel caught his attention, and he looked in one large window. The sight took his breath away.

A boy stood there, about 18, holding a katana like it was a part of him. His stance was almost perfect, his eyes closed in concentration. But what had caught Malik's attention was his hair. It was down past his waist, platinum, swept up in a ponytail. Malik stared at it. It was so familiar, that same color of desert sand with the sun shining down on it. The boy's eyes opened, and Malik's heart leaped into his throat. That color of lavender, those deep pools of...no, it couldn't be. Then he saw it. Marked in purple on the back of the boy's neck. _Ka_. Malik watched Marik parry and thrust with extreme skill. Malik wanted to talk to him so badly. Without thinking, he went to the door of the room and walked in. Marik saw him and his eyes widened. The sword went up in defense immediately.

"You! What do you want!" Malik held up his hands to show he was harmless.

"Just to take you somewhere so..." He never finished. Marik lunged at him. Malik dodged with some difficulty. Marik came around again, and Malik saw his chance. In an instant he had Marik in an inescapable hold, pressing him against his body. Malik's hand was over his mouth, and that arm pressed Marik's own sword against his throat. The other hand held the boy's wrists, keeping him from pulling the sword away. Marik struggled carefully, so as not to slit his own throat. Malik sighed and squeezed the pressure point on one of the boy's wrists, causing him to drop the sword. It slid to the ground without cutting him. Marik's struggles intensified, but he could not free himself.

Then Malik just let go. Marik almost fell forward. The former assassin put his hands on his hips and regarded the stunned boy. He'd gotten prettier over the years. Come to think of it, he _would_ be about 18 by now, only five years younger than Malik himself. He was lean and muscled, and his skin was even more bronze. Lovely.

"What do you want?" asked the boy, interrupting Malik's thoughts, "You let me go. Why?" Malik leaned against the wall nonchalantly, though inside his heart was pounding so hard he was sure Marik could hear it.

"I don't want to kidnap you again, baka. I just want to talk. See how you've been. It's not like the ransom thing was personal." Marik's eyes narrowed.

"I don't trust you," he said bluntly. Malik cocked an eyebrow.

"I can see that." Marik crossed his arms.

"Then why don't you go somewhere else?"

"I can be just as stubborn as you, boy." Marik glared at him for a long moment. Malik just looked at him with mild amusement. Finally Marik spoke again.

"I never caught your name. I was too scared years ago to listen. Who are you?" Malik stood up straight.

"My name is Malik Ishtaal. You are Marik Ishtar. Shall we go now?"

"Go where?" Malik thought a moment.

"Somewhere we can talk. Anywhere you feel comfortable."

"I don't feel comfortable anywhere with you." Malik rolled his eyes.

"Let's just go." Marik hesitated, then picked up his katana. Sheathing it, he followed Malik out the door.


End file.
